soar
by Squishy4953
Summary: The alliance between Vongola and Akashi would come to be known as the beginning of the end, or more fittingly: the Generation of Miracles. (sky!akashi)


**This has been in existence for a while. I just needed to get off my ass and edit it fully for your reading pleasure. **

**There are headcanons about both series (mainly Flame theory) and the style is intended to be introspective and vague with respect to what Akashi's knowledge. Plus plenty of nods to characters. Can be read as omnipresent narrator.**

**A friend betaed this; lots of love. **

**Enjoy. **

~\_start._/~

The Akashi family was an old one.

Technically, they only went back for a few centuries. But their history was old, and their reputation practically spotless. They had amassed power and connections to the point that they stood well above their competitors, leading the world in energy and eventually sustainable resources. While in the past, the first few Akashi leaders had gathered their fortunes in ales than legal means, they quickly became a household name in their home country and then through Asia and then to Europe.

On the other side of the world was the Vongola. They were admittedly shadier, but just as rich, and boasted blood relations and a certain familial connection that whispered of the mafia. Lesser known, was their bloody reputation and many, many ties to the underworld. They had stained their hands in their underhanded methods enough to drown Italy in blood. While they were a little older than the Akashi conglomerate, they had a constant, stable road to success – if much faster than the Akashi.

Mainly because the Vongola weren't particularly nice to their competitors. While they often just outstripped them in technology and innovative design, they were also happy to take their rivals out of competition the simpler way – veiled threats or absorbing the company entirely. They ran their contenders out of Italy and then stood upon the throne of design, fashion and the like. They continued to spread, stretching out their empire with callous, supercilious regard until they met the Akashi.

Or rather, the Akashi family's Sky Flames.

Few knew of the Akashi's involvement in the mafia and the respect they'd once gartered at the very beginnings of their company. As a result, they were afforded some respect, and the two of them fought for stocks and trust all over the globe, fighting for every inch through tight smiles and underlying barbs. They were irritatingly equal.

Of course, their empires weren't always balanced. With the instalment of a new heir, each company wavered and rippled in impact, bringing a new era. Opinions changed, and the Akashi family suffered heavy losses in their shift to healthier energy. The impact of such a change lasted all through the ninth's reign, and the constant stress of keeping his company in order saw his father's health start to decline at an early age.

And then the Vongola started to suffer their own losses, the aged boss losing two of his sons in less than five years, and a third reaching his twenties with little experience and little ambition. With the to-be tenth heir of the Akashi family, it was looking to be an era ruled by an Akashi, leaving the Vongola in the dust in the new age.

The youngest Akashi, Seijūrō, was born with greatness imprinted on his psyche. He was a genius, and genuinely interested in the betterment of himself and the world around him. He had interests that kept him well out of the reach of the yakuza and mafia, and a beautiful, wonderful warmth of a powerful Sky.

If Checkerface had needed a next generation of Arcobaleno, Seijūrō would have been the next Sky, no matter the purity of Sepira's descendants. He was vibrant, fiery and all too perfect for the role. He was a natural leader, and he could be nothing else.

His dedication to the notion of victory and the kindness taught by his mother balanced his Flames perfectly. He lived for the next goal, the next win, and the people he swept up with him. He understood his duty to his company – to his father's vision, and stepped into those shoes with a willingness that embodied the Akashi Will.

His father pushed for progress and success, and it was something the Akashi line had depended on to drive their Flames and company. He embodied the very Akashi spirit, yet was weighed down by his responsibilities and the criticism of those who opposed him – more so than any other Akashi. He taught Seijūrō to be an Akashi. On the other hand, Seijūrō's mother was the one to teach him how to be a Sky. She taught him care, love and bonds without needing to tell him. He loved her.

And upon her death, Seijūrō activated, flaring out with the vivid orange Flames of the Akashi line. He wasn't the youngest to activate, but he was the most dramatic. Seijūrō wouldn't realise until much later that her death marked the beginning of his descent into a Discordant Sky. Instead, he followed his father, pushing and pushing for each success until he was blinded by it. He had a Will to live, driven by his everlasting need for victory, for achievement – to strive to be far beyond even his own genius.

Seijūrō, with trained insight and knowledge, could almost oppose the legendary Vongola Intuition – something that was kept hidden by his family and honed through hours and hours of basketball. It was a sport he found he enjoyed eventually. It was this sport that found him his Elements, the sport that changed his ideals, and eventually even the way he would handle his company.

But before the joy that was bonds and harmony and the warmth of a full set of Guardians, he was just Seijūrō Akashi, heir to one of the biggest companies in the world, and a cold, lonely Sky.

~\緑間/~

The first to come was his Lightning. Since the Akashi family weren't explicably tied to the underbelly of society, they didn't have _families_ or _clans_ under them or even a proper hierarchy. Instead, they _helped_ people, whether they be entrepreneurs, businesses, or organisations with potential. There was nothing particularly dangerous about being in debt to Akashi, but often they would still hold a contract to continue to pay off their assistance. Or be in their service for an indefinite period of time.

The Midorima family had built their hospital on Akashi money. It wasn't a secret, what with them giving certain privileges to those associated with the corporation, and often giving assistance to the Akashi family in particular. At his mother's behest, Seijūrō would often play basketball with their only son, Shintarō Midorima. Even before Seijūrō was aware of his own Flames, they were courting.

As Seijūrō grew older, activating at the age of 10 when his mother died, he understood that courting someone without their permission was actually quite frowned upon. He didn't oppose Midorima being his Lightning, no, but it was his responsibility to explain just what he would be dedicating his life to in this case. And when the Lightning saved Seijūrō's life from a yakuza rival in a shocked crackle of green Flames, he sat his Element down and told him.

They harmonised at an impressively young age, and the duo spent hours and hours in intellectual conversations, practising basketball, and simply sharing the same warmth deep in their souls. Seijūrō couldn't deny his luck in finding such a powerful, Classic Lightning. He had all the traits of an obsessive, stubborn and hard-working Guardian that was the Lightning.

The Lightning was active well before Teikō Junior High and the Discord it brought. Yet Midorima was, and would always be the first Element in Seijūrō's Sky. Seijūrō would realise that he was alarmingly selective and harsh to potential Elements he deemed weak, no matter who was pushed towards him and no matter who sought him out. His Lightning set a bar for what Seijūrō would accept for his Guardians and he refused lesser quality.

Midorima wasn't weak. He wasn't particularly strong, like some of his later Elements, but his worth came from the steadfast, effortless compatibility that came from a childhood spent together. He didn't use his Flames very often, but that didn't take away from the strength of it.

His raw Will came from an innate understanding of the body, electricity, and a fierce need to live up to the expectations placed upon him by his parents. He was to inherit one of the most renowned private hospitals in Tokyo after all. He wasn't pushed nearly as much as the Akashi household pushed their heirs, but he was expected to be right behind his Sky in his studies. He was expected to be a doctor even before he could walk and talk. Midorima was no genius, but he had a commendable work ethic and a meticulous accuracy that would see him well in the future.

Midorima might not have agreed with Seijūrō's absolute victory philosophy, yet he said nothing, simply joining the basketball with all the cold efficiency of a machine. If Midorima habitually taped his fingers to curb his habit of accidentally releasing green electricity through his hands, Seijūrō didn't say anything either.

Their bond was in the silences, the shogi games, and the fleeting conversations they shared in empty classrooms. And despite the blunt, harsh criticism he periodically let loose, he was Seijūrō's Lightning. He was probably the most stable of them, established from their constant companionship over the years. This same stability allowed them distance, and an independence from each other that few Skies could boast.

Midorima would eventually confess that he deeply mourned the loss of Seijūrō's childhood. He was dismayed that his closest friend would never know what it was like to be free and young, and it grated at his Lightning's veiled compassion. He recognised that he had become his Lightning out of pity, and out of a fierce desire to hopefully, one day, see his Sky smile in the euphoria of a true victory.

~\紫原/~

The second was his Cloud. Compared to other Skies, Seijūrō built his circle of Guardians in the strangest order, having the more independent Elements come to him first. Like Midorima, Atsushi Murasakibara was a Classic: disinterested and somewhat violent, yet also entirely loyal and reliant on his newly found Sky.

Murasakibara, despite his large size, was lazy, childish and naïve in the everyday world. He came from an average family, with a large number of elder siblings, and was accustomed to being babied and letting others make decisions for him. But on the court – and in anything that truly caught his interest – he was passionate, aggressive and easily triggered by the slightest of offences. In fact, his Cloud tendencies and family-orientated personality clashed rather interestingly, giving this dichotomy, but didn't seem to affect him greatly otherwise.

He had all the traits of a Cloud, and when Seijūrō watched him, the Cloud's purple Flames were everywhere, practically nudging his Sky all the time. Interestingly, Murasakibara was still dormant, having no reason to truly activate his Flames. If anything, their bond formed simply from natural compatibility and availability of strong Flames rather than any actual courting.

Seijūrō found himself fond of the tall Cloud, who wandered away, never truly acknowledging his bond, yet still always coming back. Murasakibara would end up being the only Element that Seijūrō allowed into his Sky without giving express permission and actual courting. By taking on the Cloud, Seijūrō also took responsibility for informing his Element of what Flames were in the future.

Seijūrō would admit that he didn't know what gave Murasakibara the purity of his Flames, and the resolve behind them, but he knew that they were attached to his complex relationship to basketball, and his almost desperate desire for a challenger that could combat his sheer talent for this sport he couldn't escape. Seijūrō gave his Cloud all the incentive to continue basking his Sky, and Murasakibara had no complaints.

Their bond, unacknowledged as it was, was in the sweets that Seijūrō provided, and the freedom under Seijūrō's watchful eye. It was the respect, the sport they loved, and the warmth of a Sky and his Cloud.

~\青峰/~

The third was his Rain, as rocky as that was. From the moment they met, their Flames curled up beside one another, and the compatibility was _right there_. It wasn't that Daiki Aomine wanted to take advantage of their close proximity, and the purity of each other's Flames, but as soon as they so much as _mixed_ auras, Aomine seemed to be resigned that he would be dragged into his Sky.

But Seijūrō didn't like the idea of having an unwilling Element, no matter how manipulative and dominant he could be. Aomine was intelligent enough to know that neither of them wanted to fall into Discord and with his sheer purity and natural talent, he was lucky there was even a Sky to take him before the lonely, bloody path of a hitman became his only option, as it did most Rains.

They were so obviously compatible, and while they never really spoke about it, they courted. Theirs was a silent dance, one that was more common in the upper echelons of mafia society, where Guardians were more dependent on their Famiglia, and less on the Flame-user's actual desires. Aomine wasn't exactly against being one of his Elements, having a healthy dose of respect for him, but he wasn't overly eager either.

Aomine, being an Inverted Rain, was loud, obnoxious and obsessive. He was a creature of instinct, and predatory arrogance, if naïve from youth. He was egotistical and hot-headed, as many children their age were, but friendly, loyal and protective to those he cared about. He didn't have the usual pitiless pacificity of a Classic Rain but was all the better for it. Inverted Rains were often confused with Classic Storms, but the only real difference was that they usually found it much harder to use their Flames offensively.

He had first become active when his childhood friend Satsuki Momoi was attacked. His resolve came from his determination to protect her, and even though she didn't exactly need the protecting, and there were no real feelings between them, she was the basis of his Flames. From then on, Aomine had been targeted by a number of yakuza, and other organisations wanting to pull the unbound Flame into the darkness of the underworld.

Rains weren't rare. Often, they were hitmen, or killers for the ineffably calm, desperately tranquil existence they lived in. Other times they were dangerously unstable, immature without control. Aomine had no other choice but to harmonise with a Sky to gain any sort of normalcy and stability – especially since he was young, soon to be deciding his career, and coming into puberty. Already, he was automatically tranquilising his opponents, and slowing them down on accident.

Seijūrō, being well-known in many circles for his Flames, genius, standing, or even just his family, was his way out. They didn't harmonise in Teikō, having their bond grow sour over time, but neither of them were willing to let go, feeling the edges of the frightening reality that was Discord. They were stable, with Aomine attached to a 'family' and Seijūrō having the genuine fascination with the talented, powerful Rain with the speed, agility and instincts of a jungle cat.

They were soul-bound, entangled in a bond that often chafed at their nerves, and sometimes, Seijūrō didn't know if he should laugh or sigh.

~\灰崎/~

Shōgo Haizaki knew all about Flames. He wasn't fully active, as close as he was, and he wasn't strong. He had little resolve and little ambition, but instead had a greed to him that irritated Seijūrō as he tried to worm himself into his Sky. Seijūrō couldn't say that his decision to kick the confrontational, lazy and ruthless Storm out of the Club was just on the violence and behaviour alone.

~\黒子/~

The fourth was…unexpected. Seijūrō didn't even know that a Kuroko was attending Teikō, let alone one that was unbound and scathingly pure. But then again, the Kuroko family weren't the most transparent clan. In fact, the Kuroko family were rather synonymous to the Misty thieves, assassins, infiltrators and information brokers of the underworld. They were sly, cold-blooded, mysterious, and most of all, very dangerous to meet in a dark alley… or anywhere really.

It was believed even an Arcobaleno belonged to that family, but there was no proof. The Hibari clan, also boasting an Arcobaleno, were their dearest rivals and protectors, as the two had strong ties, and a long history – something Seijūrō wasn't privy to. If anything, Seijūrō only expected to meet one as an enemy. An adversary, or a client – not a teal-haired, teal-eyed boy with all the presence of a ghost and the smile of an angel called Tetsuya Kuroko.

Their bond wasn't instantaneous. The moment they met, Seijūrō knew that if they did court, it would be a full, traditional courting, not like his softer approaches with the rest of his Elements. Seeing the Mist with his Rain made him tense, wary at the Flame-user, but it only took two minutes for him to revaluate the situation, and another few months for Kuroko to join the first string.

Two months after, they were bonded, and it was a strange feeling. Kuroko came from a full yakuza clan, where he was expected to be a thief or a killer. Kuroko had never wanted that path, despite his talent in it. Kuroko was the complete opposite of Murasakibara, wherein the Cloud played the sport he was good at, but disinterested in, while Kuroko denounced his family and his talent to pursue the game he loved.

He wasn't weak, but he had none of the cold bloodlust that Seijūrō thought he would have. He was physically weak, like most illusionists, but that didn't take away from the strange contradiction of his sheer existence. Unlike most Mists, Kuroko wasn't irritatingly conniving. He didn't have ambition, or hatred, or even fear, and was difficult to intimidate. He was quiet though, not just because of his clan, but because he rarely spoke, and had no presence, Mist Flames or not.

Kuroko…surprised him. From his bravery and wholesome love, to his faith and diligence, he was always surprising him. And when they harmonised, only six months after their meeting, Kuroko was a presence that Seijūrō appreciated.

Seijūrō struggled to peg Kuroko as a Classic or Inverted. Kuroko never spoke of it, but his Flames were well-trained, and well-controlled, revealing nothing, much like his eyes. His complex resolve came from his hate for blood and his horror against his own clan, as cruel as it sounded. It was his heavy, everlasting love for his passions and he'd activated when he'd realised this, leaving his clan to pursue his own interests. His Flames were the purest Mist Seijūrō had ever been in contact with.

Kuroko lived with his immediate family, being a branch of the clan, and was one of the few to be able to live an independent life. Seijūrō was astonished by his readiness to dedicate it to him as his Sky. The enigma believed in people in a way that Seijūrō simply couldn't, and it was charming. It was marvellous, and Seijūrō couldn't help but admire him.

Seijūrō treasured their harmony the same way he did all his other Elements, and as time passed, and people changed, their bond cracked, and it _hurt_, the same way the pressure of his success did.

His bond with his Mist was tortuously intricate, and it ached in a way that made Seijūrō wish he wasn't so weak. Kuroko lost his love for his Sky, but he didn't lose faith. Not for years.

Seijūrō would be forever thankful.

~\黄瀬/~

Seijūrō adjusted to Teikō and his Elements with inevitable ease. They had a common goal, the same training, respect, compatibility and stability – all the tenacity of a team. Seijūrō was attentive, considerate, courteous and appreciative of his supporters and his teammates. He acknowledged their skills and his inability to truly grasp their ideals and opposing views. He was popular, intelligent and likeable.

If he was honest, the entire school _orbited_ around him, Elements attached or no, following him and converging on him. It didn't help his inflated sense of self-importance in hindsight, and it was only a matter of time before another worthy Element came along. The school appeared to have all the Guardians he would ever need when second-year bore fruit.

Ryōta Kise was an obviously Classic Sun. He shone brightly, far beyond his peers, and he gathered attention and fans in droves as a model and a painfully lax genius. But that bred arrogance, and he was whiny, childish, and constantly bored. Compared to the applied genius of Seijūrō himself, he found that he harboured slightly biased views. Seijūrō would praise his impressive control over his façade, however. He had incredible tolerance.

Interestingly, Kise was actually active and had a yellow aura everywhere he went. Seijūrō didn't ask if the Sun knew about his Flames. It was quite clear he didn't, yet he seemed to be aware of _something_ that made him different. He was practically asking to be kidnapped or pulled into the yakuza, and when he joined the basketball club, lured by a violent ball and the cool tranquillity of a Rain, Seijūrō set Kuroko on him.

It was to ensure that he stayed _alive_, and also to teach him a much-needed lesson in humility. Kise accented his body with his Flames subconsciously, keeping him in the epitome of growth and making it impossible for him to get sick. Amazingly enough, he completed the first-string training regime, even on his first day.

Other than that, Kise was refreshingly civilian. He was respectful and obedient to his superiors, cheerful and kind to his friends, and fiercely loyal. He genuinely loved the sport after a while, and he was the obvious candidate for Seijūrō's empty Sun Guardian position. But Seijūrō didn't want to add an unknowing civilian to his Sky, no matter how intelligent he was.

This regard wasn't due to bias against civilians as many mafia affiliated Skies were wont to do. It was a moral argument, where Seijūrō had to weigh up his desires and needs for stability through a powerful, good Sun, compared to Kise's relationship with him and his needs. He didn't show any signs of instability like Aomine did, and he wasn't on the bloody path to becoming a hitman, so really, Seijūrō had no reason to court him.

It was unethical for him to court him without his permission or even base knowledge. Ultimately, Seijūrō didn't actually have a choice. They spent far too much time together, and Kise, not knowing why he enjoyed the presences of his basketball friends so much, automatically let out bursts of Sun Flames in sheer easy joy. As much as Seijūrō controlled his Flames, there was no way to stop a minor bond from forming.

Aomine and Kuroko, being Kise's closest friends and knowing Elements of the same Sky were the ones to tell Kise, in vague terms, what was happening. Naturally, Seijūrō and his Elements weren't attached to any real family (except Kuroko), so they weren't restricted by Omertà. Kuroko was, yes, but Aomine, even without the contract, knew better than to bring the bandaged boogeymen down on their heads.

Honestly, while Seijūrō had a general idea of Aomine and Kuroko conspiring to do something, he didn't expect them to actually demonstrate what Flames were. They were very supportive of Kise being part of the same Sky, and when Kise approached him, warily and nervously about it, Seijūrō merely blinked.

They harmonised two weeks later, with his Element being the one pushing for the bond for once.

Kise, Seijūrō realised, was actually very apathetic and disinterested in the people around him. They weren't challengers, and they weren't even competition, so Kise was sometimes ruthless and cruel to his opponents. At times Kise didn't even see them as actual people. These were all signs of an unstable Sun. A Sun was generally someone who took the limelight – an extroverted attention-seeker at their very lowest. It had only worsened as Kise's potential and rate-of-growth skyrocketed.

Kise had first activated when he'd been working with his old, and first modelling agency. He was still fresh in the industry then, and his youth and family connections propelled him into the limelight, appearing in advertisements for all sorts of brands. Supposedly he'd worked for Vongola's fashion chain once or twice before settling for _Nunon Boy_.

But as an elementary school student, his life had been threatened when he'd almost fallen off his school's roof as he was overwhelmed by his fans. Seijūrō wasn't sure how much of the dramatic Sun's story was actually true at the time, but falling off a roof _was_ enough incentive to reject death.

Much, much later, Kise would tell him that he had refused to die simply because he had yet to find a challenge in his life, and that to die before ever meeting that challenger was despicable and worthy of his contempt. He wasn't nearly as nice as his façade suggested he was and Seijūrō appreciated that just as much.

~\_絶対は僕だ。_/~

Discord had always been there, the same way Seijūrō's other side was always there. He'd never really acknowledged the split, knowing that it would form a full-blown personality if he saw them separate. Seijūrō was a calm, controlled, reasonable person. He knew what he could do and how to do it. The other side of him was a cold, indifferent, rational person. He was victorious and was ever-lasting in his success.

Ultimately, there were two sides of every coin, much like how Discord was the other side of a Sky. Seijūrō was warm but his other was cold. Perhaps he'd been too negligent, in hindsight, but he'd never really noticed the difference between them then. And when he'd shifted over, panicked and tired and stretched thin, his Sky cracked.

Seijūrō had built his resolve from his need to attain victory. Losers were trampled in the dirt, not worthy of his attention. _Seijūrō was not a loser_. He was a genius, he was heir to half Japan's economy and had never suffered the pain of defeat. His mindset had been established by his father's expectations, and the cold, aching silence of his home.

But that part of him who still loved his mother's memory, loved the warmth of Elements and the desire to keep them was all _him_.

_Know your place_, he told them. _You're mine_, he didn't say. _Don't leave me._

He didn't struggle, led by an irrational, instinctual, intense fear, and his Sky flickered black.

His eye turned gold.

~\清十郎/~

The other personality – the _other_ – was fixated on Seijūrō's Elements. It quickly became evident that the other had no access to Seijūrō's Sky Flames, and so the bonds that were so foreign to his alternate fascinated him. Seijūrō possessively shied away from the other, Flames going with him, and the effect was almost immediate.

The other quickly decided that the harmony of a Sky weakened him. They obstructed his path to victory – or rather, his idea of it. It was something unnecessary for a king, and so the other took great pleasure in removing their influence.

The horror on Kuroko's face – on Tetsuya's face – would haunt Seijūrō for the rest of his life.

~\/~

The first year of Rakuzan passed in a daze. He was accepted with reverence, and he ascended to Student Council President, with Captain of the Basketball Club on the side. He was the perfect heir.

Discord was empty and cold, he found. Compared to the companionship and ever-lasting warmth that was a harmony, it was such a desolate, gnawing emptiness that he had forgotten the warmth of the Flames of a Sky. His teammates were almost afraid of him, he thought distantly. Was this what would happen if Seijūrō dedicated himself to living as a conqueror? Living on top of his rivals' corpses?

His other self was more violent, more cutting, and more dominating than Seijūrō usually portrayed himself as. But to that fractured side of him, the changes weren't as extreme as people insisted. He was always capable of such cruelties. Such things happened in the world all the time. His other side simply had more incentive to use violence and dramatic expression to get the results he wanted. He was more straightforward, if anything. He wanted victory, and that was what he would get.

No. He didn't _want_ for victory. It was _given to him_. In this way, he was _absolute._

The original personality, the _Sky_ side of him, cried at that. While he understood that sacrifices had to be made to maintain _control_ over his decaying, fading bonds, it hurt. His Flames were always the centre of the universe, always beautifully inviting. But now, this yearning that Seijūrō could never ease slowly poisoned his rich orange Flames into a deep black.

In the past, he had been driven by his mother's kindness, and the love she represented in his life. But as he'd grown older, his father had instilled a _need_ for more. He was constantly striving for each success until it had overrun him. His Flames reflected that, and while his oldest bond, his Lighting might not have mentioned it, that _lonely_ drive – reason to live – had been the start of his Discord. It hadn't been that noticeable during his years at Teikō, but the other was so _consumed_ by the notion, his Flames had fractured as a result.

Because of this, Seijūrō was glad his other personality decided not to see or interact with his Elements. He didn't want them to see the stains in his Flames, or the scarring in his soul. However, they knew anyway, and it earned him the pity of his Lightning and Rain. They stayed well away from him, probably feeling the sliminess of Discord brush against their own active Flames, especially after that last meeting. Atsushi and Ryōta, not knowing the true danger of associating with a fracturing Sky, only knew that the true personality, the _true_ Seijūrō wasn't there. He wasn't warm, wasn't their Sky. And so they slowly ceased communication, their exchanges almost dying out completely.

Seijūrō didn't see Tetsuya. The Mist was very good at hiding.

Instead, Seijūrō spent time with his new team. None of them had any outstanding Flames, and there was no Storm to compliment him. He wasn't looking for Elements. He made sure his other personality was well aware that _his_ Sky Flames were _his_, and _his_ alone. This personality had no right to _his_ Flames, and Seijūrō refused to let his other take control of that last little bit of his warmth.

Chihiro Mayuzumi was a Mist that Seijūrō could have seen himself accepting into his Sky, fractured as it was. The Mist was far less stable than Tetsuya, and there was a constant caution that rested under his skin. His Flames were latent, but Seijūrō was so _cold_, and he wanted some semblance of the warmth he used to possess.

The accidental scorching he left in his wake would weigh on Seijūrō's conscience.

~\/~

Seijūrō didn't know why his other sought out his Elements before the Winter Cup.

Even before arriving, he could feel their Flames brushing up against the Discord in his. It made the air heavy, and the silent uncertainty between Elements towards a broken Sky was clear to any active. They didn't want to be there (neither did he), but the old respect was there. _They still cared_.

There was an odd cohesiveness between them, he noted, distantly curious. They'd changed. The cold estrangement from third-year had faded out, and they were vibrant once again. The thought of it made him mourn. They'd changed without him.

The other, sensing his distress, pushed him aside, internally condescending for his display of weakness. It reflected his father, Seijūrō thought. The depths of his own mind chilled him at times, the dispassionate need for more, and he summoned his Flames into the slightest flare, pushing away the other.

He didn't notice his Elements frown and glance at each other, their Flames either weaving their way around each other or uneasy by their Discordant sky. His other didn't understand the role of a Sky in a harmony, and thus ignored it, but for a moment, there was a glimmer of hope.

And then –

_So this is one_, said the Storm. The tone of the voice was disapproving, and there was a certain withheld anger to it that caught the other's attention. The red-headed intruder – _Kagami_ – spoke as if he knew who Seijūrō was – as if he had any right to _judge_. A certain righteous fury rose in the face of that realisation, and the other seethed. Who was he to speak?

Seijūrō silently hummed, shoving the lashing, wild Storm Flames away. Of course. He was the missing factor to his circle of Elements. They were orbiting _him_ now. Seijūrō…Seijūrō had exhausted any notion of jealousy for his Elements. He was glad for them. Perhaps…it was time to let them go.

~\/~

And then Tetsuya was there, eyes shadowed and a light at his back. He distinctly remembered his other's contempt and cool dismissal. That was careless, he thought. He underestimated his Mist and his resolve. Seijūrō… didn't know what to do.

_He didn't deserve to be in the light. He wasn't good enough. His beliefs, his _faith_ wasn't enough for his father._

It was Tetsuya who brought him back.

It was always him. He always went beyond his expectations. Perhaps that was the nature of a Mist. To create a new future, pushing past the restrictions of reality.

Kuroko loved so fiercely; he clung to the remnants of it with a single-minded determination that was both characteristic of a Mist yet completely removed from it. His goal was not victory. It was a love for a sport, for one's team. It was the bonds one made, and the deep, meaningful friendship between people who dreamed the same – who fought as one.

Seijūrō…found that rather beautiful. And it _worked_. If he didn't fight until his dying breath for victory, then he would fight for the sake of others (for his _Elements_). He would attribute this victory to Tetsuya. To _Kuroko_. His Mist, who gave him his drive, and the true meaning of victory and defeat.

_Who are you?_

_A Sky_, he whispered. _I'm a Sky_.

~\赤司/~

The stadium _warmed_, and the gold in his eye faded away. Discord went with it, and the emptiness in his Flames turned the orange of a Sky again. He was a proper Sky again. Seijūrō sighed as everything simply… clicked back into place, coming into his role again as Captain, heir, Sky, leader, son. He was Seijūrō Akashi. He was cracked, and his mentality was faltering, but he was who he was.

And with that, he stepped back out onto the court, feeling that warmth and fire. His bonds were worn, and his Elements wary, but his Guardians were there. In the crowd, on the court. Their resolve had changed, he noted. They were stronger.

He smiled.

~\火神/~

Taiga Kagami was a Storm. Seijūrō supposed that it was fitting, with Aomine, Kuroko's previous light, being a Rain. The two hot-headed individuals seemed to fit a certain criteria for his Mist. It wasn't really his business of course. Seijūrō had apologised to his Elements, quietly and heart-felt a week after the match. He owed it to them, and it was well worth it. His Elements became his again, stable and steady. Seijūrō basked in it.

Seijūrō was ready to move past his defeat, learn from it, and aim for the top of the world, his Guardians right behind him. He was ready for a challenge, for rivals and friends, just as he was ready for obstacles. He _wasn't_ ready for a Storm. Much less a Storm he had assaulted and belittled.

Of course, the world (or maybe just his Mist) refused him and shoved the frustratingly strong Storm Flames at him. If anything, Seijūrō was surprised by the fact that his five Guardians as a whole had decided they wouldn't mind Kagami as their fellow Element, all completely without alerting him, their Sky.

They struck after the Jabberwocky match. They had decided to celebrate, coming together as a team, and Seijūrō, in hindsight, was tired. Both from the match, and the emotional upheaval of finally restoring his sense of self and erasing the black from his Flames entirely. So they dragged the team to an onsen with ease and cajoled him into participating. Being as exhausted as he was, he didn't detect the ploy until he was already left alone with the unattached _active_ Storm, the others having vacated the baths with startling efficiency.

Seijūrō was tempted to push the roiling Flames away, abandoning the Storm to his own devices and retiring for the night, but eventually decided against it. As much as a full harmony would be nice, he hadn't courted Kagami, nor had he even left a good impression on him. He was one of the reasons Seijūrō had returned to his former self, yes, but they weren't exactly incompatible. They still chafed at each other, but there was a certain kinship there, much in the same way of his former teammates.

Teikō's training methods and the basketball club promoted like-minded thinking, and with the common goal of victory, as well as the constant close proximity, it was inevitable that Seijūrō would bond with his team. But Kagami didn't have any of those shared experiences. He was a complete stranger, if only the player who defeated him.

There was compatibility borne from the strength of each other's resolve, but that resolve and his very _core_ differed from Seijūrō's so significantly that they would struggle to harmonise completely. And with Kagami leaving in a literal twenty-six hours, there was no point. It would simply fade if they were lucky, break if not. The distance was too far.

"Kuroko told me you don't want another Element," said Kagami gruffly. The baths were quiet, his Elements taking the life from it in their hasty departure. Seijūrō was complete and utterly still, and the water reflected that.

"I don't," he said simply. Kuroko was more insightful than Seijūrō gave him credit for. As always, he thought ruefully.

The Storm snorted. They were both well aware of the existence of Flames, but they didn't discuss it outright. Since the moment they met, they'd both known, just as Kagami would have known that the other colourful Elements were all claimed by the same person. Any active Element could feel if another was active, just as they could feel the other's bonds. Seijūrō had known from the moment he'd seen the redhead on the court, that he was an active Storm. They didn't address it. Until this moment. This final moment.

"You're the only one I would accept if I was looking," Kagami said. _For Kuroko. For the people who dedicated themselves to you. For your strength. Your harmony. Not because I trust you_. _Not yet._

Seijūrō couldn't help but smile. "It is my choice. Now… and in the future." _You will not be my Storm. Not now, strangers as we are. But perhaps… one day, when you return, there will be a place for you here._

Kagami flared his Flames daringly, and the heat rippled in the air. The air tinged red, matching the untamed potential in his eyes. Seijūrō barely blinked. He watched the display placidly, smile still on his lips. He didn't reply.

Seijūrō left.

~\空/~

Seijūrō finished university with record-breaking prowess.

It was only expected of him.

He would then go on to inherit the biggest company this side of the world, in an internationally televised spectacle. It was entirely redundant and meaningless of course, but his father, lying in his death bed, wanted only the greatest for his son. Seijūrō simply waited for his father to die.

The takeover was smooth and severe, making changes that his father would have dismissed out of hand. He heralded a new reign over the business world, and it appeared he would hold it for a long time, as the final heir to the Vongola died under mysterious circumstances. The Vongola suffered their third, and final loss, the company taking a massive hit under their shareholder's fears. They dropped in value, and the Japanese company stepped far, far forward.

Seijūrō was known as the innovative, incredibly intelligent, _ultimate_ CEO, standing well above the shoulders of every other multinational company in the world. He revolutionised economics and owned every other business in Tokyo. Nobility, aristocracy, _royalty_, entrepreneurs and even other athletes – the top of the world – flocked to him.

He was a Sky, and he soared as high as he wanted.

~\虹/~

Unknown to most, the Akashi family didn't simply sprout out of nowhere. They had their roots in the yakuza, just as most of the richer companies did. However, the first generation, the first Akashi Sky, had pulled the, at the time, small company out of the underworld's clutches, and into a more respectable business. Of course, a powerful Sky couldn't do that on a whim. The yakuza wouldn't simply _part_ with a strong Sky. But no one could complain – not while the Arcobaleno Sky said so.

Yes, a long, long time ago, the Akashi family were caretakers of the Arcobaleno pacifiers. Because of this, they had weight with the inhuman Vindice to ignore Omertà, and the lightest of ties with the Giglio Nero, situated out of Italy. Over time, the Administrator had chosen more Skies from Sepira's lines, spurning the Akashi. And so, their agreements and contracts were forgotten. The Akashi however…did not forget.

For years, they bred strong Skies, built off a strict code, and a duty to attain victory. Seijūrō was but another to follow that ideal. He wasn't ungrateful, but he wasn't obliged to treat his own potential children with the same exacting standards.

Seijūrō had never feared the possibility of being chosen as an Arcobaleno. It had always hung over the heads of all Akashi Skies, even if there hadn't been one chosen in decades. While it was an unfortunate waste of his abilities, it was unavoidable. His line was honour-bound to take that responsibility.

So later, when he received news that the Arcobaleno curse was broken, and the Tri-ni-sette self-sustaining for the first time in its long history, Seijūrō had no hesitations in extending a letter of thanks to the new heir of the Vongola.

And an open invitation to meet.

~\霧/~

After high school, Seijūrō's Mist spent a year as a freeta, part-timing and volunteering at whatever business needed help.

Mists, having their characteristic of creation, found it difficult to settle down. They couldn't live a stable life, as nothing could catch their attention long enough – other than a Sky. And predictably, Kuroko delved into the darker side of the world. Seijūrō wouldn't stop him. It was practically in his blood. Seijūrō calculated that, as much as he loved his Elements, the callousness of the real world would do well for his excessive kindness and persistent politeness.

He quickly became renowned as a ghost. A phantom, if you will. The Kuroko clan were wide-spread. They had roots in Western Europe and Asia, and so were well-known throughout the world. Kuroko didn't inherit the dark hair and eyes from the main family, instead looking a lot more like his father, who married in.

He did, however, inherit the skills of the clan. His low-presence was a boon, and his resolve was pure. He simply had a strong moral code and thus disliked cheating with the use of his Flames. He didn't use them often. Seijūrō noted that many of his Guardians had the raw power but no desire to use it. Even he didn't use his Sky Flames for anything other than intimidation and stability.

After throwing the world of thievery into upheaval, Kuroko backed out. Yet again, Kuroko surprised him – he was no different from before. Just as kind, just as polite – just as much his Mist as before. Seijūrō sighed. In an almost cliché move, the Mist went to university for Literature – specifically Ancient Literature. He also volunteered at a kindergarten every week. And if Kuroko so happened to be visited by a hooded two-year-old now and then…well, no one would know – except Seijūrō, because he knew everything.

Really, Seijūrō shouldn't have been surprised.

Kuroko, in a show of companionship, visited every week, each time with a different book in his hand. He generally just snuck past security and read books in Seijūrō's office while he was working. At times, they would discuss certain books of interest or the intricacies of human behaviour; and now and then, they would go out for some streetball, or a gathering.

Their bond was steady. Always.

~\太陽/~

Unlike Kuroko, Seijūrō's Sun was very predictable.

He took his full-time modelling career seriously, well into his twenties, and when he finally decided to go to university, he took his love for karaoke into the real world. Modelling was a very specific, demanding industry, and it no longer wanted him. Seijūrō was happy to lend a few jobs to his Sun, but as he grew older, his Sun got fewer contracts.

Kise soon ascended into a full popstar. It was almost inevitable for the Classic Sun to do so, as they were energetic, fidgety and easily the star of the stage. He already had plenty of influence in that side of the field from his many years as a model, and he became a household name. Kise always had the greatest potential of all Seijūrō's Elements – he'd just never really used it. From there, the internet celebrity dabbled in the acting world and then a bit in stunts.

Really, his foray into stunt-work was token at best. He just wanted a reason to get a private pilot license. Picking up the requirements to fly his own craft was practically effortless with his talent for copying. Seijūrō was unimpressed. But Kise just grinned at him, eyes shining gold and all but twitching with the energy of a Sun. Kise never ended up explaining how his apprenticeship under a purple-haired and eyed baby came about.

Kise stood at the top of another world. It wasn't nearly as administrative and financially integral as Seijūrō's position, but he held the music industry in his hand. Kise could easily retire at the age of thirty, just like how Seijūrō could have just not worked at all. They all made themselves part of the world based on their own aspirations and decisions. And Seijūrō was glad that they did.

Unlike Kuroko, his Sun couldn't sneak past security – or even sneak outside his house – to visit. As a result, Kise practically invited Seijūrō to all his concerts and different sorts of events whenever he could. Unfortunately, even skipping a day of work (or being seen at all) would have political and economic ramifications, so Seijūrō rarely took up the offer.

But he did make sure to attend the yearly basketball match they had together. Their bond might not have been the closest, but Seijūrō acknowledged that Kise kept all his Elements together. He was the one who cared honestly and completely, and it showed. It always did.

~\雷/~

Seijūrō's Lightning attended the same university, if different courses.

Midorima worked with his parents at his family's hospital. It was a long time coming, and not unexpected at all. While a medical PhD took a very, very long time, Midorima had been trailing after the smartest person in Japan for the better part of his life. He was quite intellectual, with hands as steady as his faith.

Unlike Seijūrō, Midorima took much, much longer in taking over from his parents. He sorely needed the experience, and it took time for him to pick up the skills needed to be the surgeon he was expected to be. Unlike the aforementioned Elements, the obsessive-compulsive Lightning didn't stray from his 'destined' path.

Lightnings, in general, were very focused. They weren't always driven, per se, but when pushed, they would reach that goal – even to the edge of death. That was why many of the better scientists, mathematicians and professors tended to be Lightnings. They were usually the ones with the will to propel forward, and the natural skill to oppose the other Lightnings in the industry. Even the late Verde – the supposed reincarnation of Da Vinci – was a Lightning. A powerful one at that.

Seijūrō had merely blinked once when said Arcobaleno scowled at him atop Midorima's shoulder. When he cast his red eyes upon his Lightning, the surgeon sighed, spinning a tale of distant familial relations and astrology and the space-time continuum. Seijūrō invested in a new asset that day.

Skies generally had a good constitution. Their Flames were made up of all the Elements, including Sun Flames. Thus, they had impressive vitality and durability. Seijūrō was no different. He was physically and mentally at his peak, ignoring his emotional state. That didn't mean that Midorima couldn't check up on him every other month.

His visits were entirely legal, and well noted in the books, and Seijūrō didn't mind getting fussed over now and then. Seijūrō did not see his Lightning very often, nor for long periods of time, but after the minor check-up (always healthy), they often shared moments of their lives – whether they be complaints, case studies or genuine stories. Midorima didn't mind Kuroko's occasional presence, as surprising as his appearance was the first time.

Their harmony was the warmest. The oldest. Their bond was ever-lasting. Seijūrō could never choose another Lightning better than his oldest friend.

~\桃井/~

Satsuki Momoi might not have been compatible with him, but she was still a talented analyst. She quickly rose through the ranks of the business world, and then took the offer to work with Seijūrō for an indefinite period of time. Having worked well together in the past, it was easy to settle back into the familiar rhythm. She was reliable, intelligent, optimistic, passionate and bright, if naïve, unrealistic and impatient.

She had the traits of a latent Sun, but she was simply, genetically, too weak to use them, even if she went active. While completely aware of Flames and their abilities, she was unable to use, detect or perceive them the same way actives could. But it didn't seem to matter to her. She led a simple life, if a little busy at times, and she was happy to do so, eventually pairing herself with her childhood friend – something Aomine really should have seen coming.

~\雨/~

Seijūrō's Rain chased his dreams in the sports world, rivalling Kagami – the renounced America's ace – with legendary rigour.

Naturally, he went straight to the top, his mix of streetball and professional style meshing well into a new team. They went national, and then international. From university to professional coaching. Seijūrō didn't actually see his Rain very often outside written contracts and photos, but the bond was steady. If anything, Aomine only really complained about the mafia to his Sky, despite being able to keep out of it.

Being an Inverted Rain, his active aura wasn't nearly as obvious. Inversion was both of the Flames and personality – wherein Aomine didn't follow the usual Rain characteristics and thus had Flames that were focused inward more than outward. Notably, the Storm and Cloud Arcobaleno were Inverted, and thus were rarely seen using their Flames offensively.

Not to say that Inverted Elements couldn't access their Flames. It was just harder, and they didn't naturally release them, which gave them certain repeals. With Seijūrō's assistance, Aomine never knew how rare it was for an active Flame-user to play competitively. Seijūrō planned to keep it that way.

Aomine wasn't nearly as obsessive-compulsive or focused as some of Seijūrō's other Elements. He had an abrasive temperament, a vexing attitude, and an intense _passion_ for his sport that even Seijūrō couldn't match. While he had suffered defeats, they only served to push him even further. He didn't have the kind of relationship with his new team that he had with his old team, both in Teikō and Tōō, but he led his team to victory time and time again as Japan's ace.

He stood against Kagami on an international stage for years.

In hindsight, Seijūrō supposed their twenties was the golden age of his Elements. They all had their time in the limelight – their own world to look down upon, but ultimately it would only be Seijūrō, Midorima and Murasakibara who held onto that glory.

While most of the others willingly retired from their life of high society, Aomine's brutal end to his career was possibly the biggest tragedy of the sports world.

The team in question had been marked for their underhanded play and their cruelty towards other players. They were no international team, nor was that match a particularly important one, but they'd had a grudge – something revealed to be festering since Teikō – and they'd finally acted on it.

The ones that caused it were ripped apart by the media with just as much ruthlessness as much they shattered Aomine's leg and Seijūrō found that to be fitting. They would never be welcome in any sporting facility ever again, nor would they be able to play against any self-respecting team.

Aomine never recovered fully, and his performance slipped. After spending a month of debauchery after being refused from play, it took a combined effort from Kuroko, Kise and Midorima to drag him back to his feet. He returned to university – sponsored and in a scholarship – and then devoted his time to coaching upcoming and determined basketballers all over the world. If Aomine couldn't rival America's ace, then he would teach one who could.

Aomine was probably the most distant Element in Seijūrō's Sky. Really, the only reason they'd first bonded was for the sake of stability and convenience. Years after, Aomine understood the risks and the lengths people went to for powerful Elements, and kept in contact, if only rarely, for the harmony. He only attempted to sneak into Seijūrō's home once, at least, and then settled for sauntering into Seijūrō's office once or twice a year with Momoi's assistance.

On a surface level, their bond was the only thing keeping them together. But beyond that, Seijūrō could trust Aomine to keep coming back – not just on the risk of Discord or scorching alone. They trusted each other to have each other's backs, and really, that was all Seijūrō needed from him.

~\雲/~

The Cloud wandered.

It was only expected of him, and he took to the freedom of the world with childish curiosity. At his side was Tatsuya Himuro, strangely enough. Seijūrō was unsure as to why Murasakibara trusted the Mist so much, but eventually decided that he meant no harm. Murasakibara spent a few years abroad, studying outside Japan and taking apprenticeships, before returning and opening a pastry shop in a quieter street in the midst of Tokyo.

People would die for such a location, but Seijūrō loved his Elements enough to splurge just a bit with the wealth of a CEO. It wasn't even a dent in his personal funds, let alone his share. Murasakibara was just as known for his cooking as he was for his food blogs, and he spent his adult life travelling the world for different cuisines and creating his own designs back in the heart of Japan.

It was a comfortable existence, something Seijūrō should have expected from his Cloud, and the man-child didn't stray from that path. Himuro was impressively tolerant, and when Kagami and Kuroko went to visit both his fellow Cloud and childhood best friend, his Mist would later tell him that Himuro was lost without the taller man.

With that cryptic explanation, Seijūrō let it go. Despite being Murasakibara's Sky and technical 'boss', his Cloud both didn't know or care about such things. And Seijūrō himself didn't like having to baby his Elements either. They didn't orbit each other, but the purple-haired pastry chef was still under his purview. He constantly kept tabs on all of his Elements, but rarely had to constantly interact with them as the traditional Sky and their Guardians would.

In that sense, Seijūrō was somewhat thankful that Murasakibara bothered to seek out other Elements (usually Kuroko), usually taking them to whatever new or interesting restaurant opened in Tokyo. Since the two were the less famous people in Seijūrō's Sky, they got away with dropping work randomly and appearing in certain locations for the cuisine including, but not limited to, festival food, cafés and many, many milkshakes.

And sometimes they would bring food back for him. That meant Kuroko had to actively show his presence. With Momoi handling much of the minor administration, it was generally easy for them to get in. Murasakibara didn't really understand the sheer significance of a harmony, but as time went by, he appeared to appreciate the stability it gave. He didn't give Akashi affiliated customers a discount, but he did send a few experimental creations now and then.

~\嵐/~

Taiga Kagami rose in the world of sports as America's ace.

While he was unexpected, he wasn't unpredictable like Kuroko. He stormed through the international circuit with his fiery enthusiasm, powerful jumps and fast play. He soared for the sky with the kind of intense focus that was only paralleled by a Lightning. Unlike, Aomine, Kagami wasn't actually his Element (not completely, despite the curtesy imprint on his Flames).

Being a Storm, he was intimidating and constantly on the offensive. He was as Classically rash and short-tempered as was expected of his type. But he was honest and loyal – especially to Kuroko. He was a burning light to Aomine's passionate brilliance, yet unlike the ever-pleasant (Inverted version) rain, the storm prevailed, roiling with the volatile change and renewal characteristic of a Storm.

Kagami visited Japan quite often, much to the interest of the media's gossipers. It took a lengthy, conniving scheme to make them back off – something that Seijūrō found rather entertaining. He rarely visited Seijūrō. They weren't in a harmony after all. Instead, it was Seijūrō's other Elements who dragged him out of his office, usually to put the two of them in the same space.

Seijūrō would have sighed. The basketball player couldn't be his. He was certain.

Until he wasn't.

Of course, it was many, many years later, that he reassessed the situation, but… it was there.

It was a slow, subtle bond – something he would have expected from a Cloud or Lightning. Storms tended to be very obvious in their intentions, but this bond was the very opposite of that. It raged against Seijūrō's control, and whenever he wasn't paying attention, they pushed and cradled and nudged. It took years.

It was only after they'd gathered for Aomine's sake, that they actually harmonised. It wasn't a simple, easy _click_, or a smooth transition, but a burning hot wrath of a compatibility that only _just_ fit. There were creases and cracks – sharp edges and tiny fragments of _frustrationconfusionannoyanceangerfondnesssadnessjoy_ where they couldn't work – but Kagami only glared down at him while Seijūrō merely sighed.

_You glue my Elements together_, he thought. _You're the Storm they gather for, while the Sky just looks over them, forever out of reach. _Perhaps, in another lifetime, Kagami would have been the Sky over his Elements, and he would be a king, beloved by his subjects. _But not this time_.

Their bond was rocky. If Aomine was the most distant, then Kagami's was the most strained. It was like trying to mould one another into something they weren't or put the wrong puzzle pieces together. They were awkward and stilted and off-balanced with one another, and they didn't spend enough time fixing it properly. They were too old to change themselves for a better bond. Most Elements looked for a Sky when they were younger, more malleable and able to change. Their bond wasn't the oldest, but it was unusual for a Storm and Sky.

While Seijūrō disliked having an Element that didn't feel fully like his own, it would be worse trying to find a Storm his other Elements respected enough to follow.

"You won't be my right-hand," he told Kagami one day. Momoi was more than enough.

The Storm rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Like you'd need a right-hand anyway. Or a left-hand." No, he wouldn't. The traditional left-hand, the Rain, Aomine was too free for that.

Kagami narrowed shrewd eyes and crossed his arms. It did strange things to his distinct eyebrows. "You're a weird one," he said. "Most Skies want their Guardians around full-time, and don't give two shits about what they want." Seijūrō looked away, remembering his _other_, the cracked black scars left in his soul. His Guardians were his friends, first and foremost. "I don't care if I get a little scorched," Kagami continued. Seijūrō stilled. "As long as my friends do what they enjoy under the same Sky."

Seijūrō had no response to that. To scar one's _soul_ for the sake of others' happiness – knowingly doing so. He analysed the other redhead for a moment and then bitterly laughed once. How reckless. How utterly characteristic of him.

Kagami was oddly accepting of his strange position. Most Storms grew obsessed with their Sky, much more than any other Element, which simply spread the belief that a set of Guardians and their Sky were incapable of remaining apart. That was untrue. Seijūrō allowed his Guardians to follow their dreams, and choose the life they wanted to live.

_That_ was why Kagami was his Storm.

~\/~

Compared to the more traditional mafia families like the Vongola or Giglio Nero, his Elements were too scattered to ever really gain the respect of other mafia affiliated organisations. But for Seijūrō, and they weren't there for protection. They were his friends – life-long friends if anything – and the people he could trust, beyond his colleagues and the few people he spoke to outside school.

He could rely on them to come if he needed help, just as they could in return. It was an unspoken warmth, a connection that no news shark could ever understand. This connection, this constant, if distant, companionship warmed him. A harmony was a life-long vow, unspoken, but soul-bound. His Guardians were the closest thing he had to soul-mates.

Perhaps, in another future, he would have led a lonely life, sitting at the top of the world. He would have married a woman of dignity, had kids and continued his legacy like his fathers before him. He would have been cold, and untouchable – a genius who met every expectation and beyond.

But that would not be his future. Here, he had people he cared for, and they who cared for him in return. He was a Sky, and he would appreciate his harmony and the warmth of a full set.

He couldn't ask for anymore.

~\沢田/~

It wasn't long before the new Vongola heir took up the invitation to meet. Seijūrō had heard some interesting stories about the newest boss of the bloodiest and richest mafia family, but he was unsure if the boy who stood before him met his expectations. The boy – for he was barely a man – might not have been the manipulative, dangerous pillar of mafia society like the boss before him, but the hard glint in his golden-orange eyes and his daring ambition made Seijūrō all the more impressed.

Tsunayoshi Sawada _would_ pull Vongola away from its dark past, one fight at a time, and Seijūrō would support him. It was a promise laid out in a contract. A solemn vow. Sawada would fulfil his part of the bargain with his dying breath – his dying _will_. In any other case… well, Seijūrō wasn't kind, and he shouldn't give so many resources to his rival company. But in the end, Seijūrō was a long-term thinker.

So he smiled, lips thin and sharp. "It would be a pleasure to work with you, Sawada-dono."

And the fellow Sky – a different kind of warmth; needy and young, yet pure and unwavering – smiled back. Skies were an amalgamation of all the Elements they watched over. They were everything and anything, and as such, Skies couldn't be Inverted. They were every contradiction there was, and as a result, potential Elements could choose whatever kind of leash they wanted.

This Sky was a gem in the rough. Sawada was genuine, forgiving and painfully civilian. But his beliefs were written in the core of his being – and he could never stray from his chosen path. Seijūrō could see this boy standing far above the mafia. Far above their sins and their slaughters. He was a success story in the making. A protagonist, if anything.

"Call me Tsuna," the Vongola Decimo said. "And the pleasure's all mine."

~\_fin._/~

**Other things you may wonder about: **

**1\. The other Akashi uses first names. True Akashi uses surnames. Seijūrō is meant to be indicative of an Akashi-centric. **

**2\. Not sure if I need to explain the terminology. Inverted and Classical, scorching, harmonising, Discord... read some other KHR fic. **

**3\. Verde&Midorima: they're related/Oha Asa claimed they should meet up/Arcobaleno keep the world in order. Yeah? No?**

**4\. If it's not clear, there's definitely a Vindice!Akashi around somewhere. **

**5\. In this story, the Generation of Miracles never refers to the Teikō team. **


End file.
